My favorite scene this past week came after dark — gazing out the window toward the lake, I was treated to the sight of what felt like a million twinkling fireflies. I’ve never seen so many in one place (well, except maybe the dogs earlier in the week). The night was clear, the moon was glowing, and the field of tall grass sloping down to the lake was glittering like it had been dusted with stars.
It brought an instant smile to my face — how could it not?
A rush of childhood memories came flooding back: hot summer nights, swimming in our backyard pool with my best friend Allison, peppermint ice cream, and the challenge of catching just one firefly in a mason jar. We never had much luck, but that wasn’t really the point.
If I were braver now, I might walk down into that tall grass and try my luck again.
(I am not.)
And I think I’m okay with that.
Because honestly, I’d much rather sit right here, looking out at the field of fireflies — twinkling and dancing in the moonlight — and just be still with the memory, the moment, and the magic of it all.
Wouldn’t you?